


Porcelain Boys Shouldn't Run On Pavement, So Stay Inside Your Glass Castle

by I_am_a_grenade



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parenting, Bullying, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family, Gen, How Do I Tag, I need help tagging, I'm trying to cope with Tommy's exile, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulation, Oneshot, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad with a Happy Ending, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), but at the same time it isn't, everything is kind of left to the imagination and implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_grenade/pseuds/I_am_a_grenade
Summary: “On top of a hill that overlooks an intricate city, there stands a glass castle. It is not stained, nor tinted or frosted. It's clear and empty of colour, see through. Arrows and stones and gazes can pierce through the thin layer, for it is not bulletproof. It is made of glass, perched precariously over a city of stones and other sorts.‘Thomas, we aren’t like everyone else. We have wealth, superior to all those below us.’“Inside the glass castle, there lives a jackhammer and a pen and paper. They have a son, and he is made of porcelain. The porcelain boy grows inside these castle walls, learning and changing. The jackhammer and the pen keep him inside the glass castle, and so he watches through the clear windows, silently observing the city that lives its own life.”
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 38
Kudos: 339





	Porcelain Boys Shouldn't Run On Pavement, So Stay Inside Your Glass Castle

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of being productive and working.

The principal stood to his left, smiling reassuringly. They may have had a rocky start, but she supported him, despite the mischief and mayhem he caused. He had debated on dropping out, to forget the entire story and leave, never look back. Yet he took a deep breath, stepping onto the stage.

Looking out onto the crowd of people he barely knew. James, Arthur, Malcolm, Lousia, Tamari, Kaliegh.

He knew they didn’t know him, not really. Rich, wealthy. That was the only connection. The crowd’s smiles grew teeth, elongated into smiles of cruel words and taunts.

“Hello, my name is Thomas, but I prefer Tommy,” his voice cracked awkwardly as he introduced himself.

He could feel his mother’s scowl.

Swallowing the growing fear, his eyes landed on brown, red and blue ones, giving him smiles that screamed encouragement. Another deep breath.

“I guess I wrote something and the school liked it, cause I’m here to share it. So I just start...?” he glanced to his left, expression asking permission.

A bob of tousled hair, a nodded confirmation of his question.

“I’ve come to tell you about the story of a porcelain boy,” he could see people laugh and chuckle, snickering at the ridiculous starting sentence. 

_‘What an idiot.’_

“On top of a hill that overlooks an intricate city, there stands a glass castle. It is not stained, nor tinted or frosted. It's clear and empty of colour, see through. Arrows and stones and gazes can pierce through the thin layer, for it is not bulletproof. It is made of glass, perched precariously over a city of stones and other sorts.

_‘Thomas, we aren’t like everyone else. We have wealth, superior to all those below us.’_

“Inside the glass castle, there lives a jackhammer and a pen and paper. They have a son, and he is made of porcelain. The porcelain boy grows inside these castle walls, learning and changing. The jackhammer and the pen keep him inside the glass castle, and so he watches through the clear windows, silently observing the city that lives its own life.”

_‘What game are they playing Mum?’ ‘Ah, that’s hide and go seek. Now go read your book’s and finish your homework.’_

He looked out into the crowd, saw hundreds of people watching him, confusion etched into their features. He continues.

“One day, the porcelain boy asks his parents, ‘can I go outside, for I am lonely, and I wish to not be so.’ For you see, the porcelain boy was the type of boy to not do well alone. His parents are busy, for they work, and there is no one to play with the porcelain boy. His parents, who the boy will tell anyone who asks, warn him that he should never wish to go to such a place.

_‘Public school, really? I thought you liked being homeschooled.’ Eyes inspected his face, waiting for a reaction. ‘I do. I want to meet people though, I want friends.’_

“‘My son,’ the jackhammer warns, ‘the outside world is full of dangers, little boy’s made of porcelain so easy to break should never leave their glass castles to run about the pavement. If you trip and fall, you will crack. If you wish to leave, then we must teach you how to be strong.’ The boy listens, and then turns to his mother. ‘Every word you use, they will twist and bend to use it like a sword against you. Words can break porcelain too, if they are strong enough,’ she tells him. The porcelain boy listens, and asks to learn. 

_‘People will hurt you. They will use you for money, bleed you dry until you cannot give anymore.’ ‘Everyone?’ ‘Everyone.’_

“The jackhammer teaches him that if he doesn’t act tougher than the thin china he is made of, he will break. The jackhammer shows the porcelain boy how easy it is to crack, tapping him on the shoulder to show how dangerous the cracks can be. The jackhammer sets expectations for the porcelain boy, and if he fails to meet them, his father will show him what it feels like to crack over and over again.”

“‘If you fail, I will break the castle and leave with the pen and the paper. You can not survive without us, so what will you do who shall protect you against the city of stone?’ the jackhammer tells him.”

_‘If you continue to make stupid mistakes, I’ll disown you boy. How do you think you’ll fair all by yourself, hmm?’_

His eyes fall on his father, face set tight, anger evident in his blue eyes filled with an evil merciless mirth. 

“The porcelain boy heeds his father’s warning, the threat motivating him, and so he changes himself. He learns how to pretend to be steel, unbreakable and unshakeable. If one is steel, then jackhammers and the city of stone cannot pierce through his thin skin, so intricate and delicate. 

_‘Vulnerability is a weakness, never forget that. You get hurt when you show weakness.’_

“Once he has perfected the art of pretend, he turns to the pen and paper. His mother tells him that she will write everything he says and does. Because words hurt just as much as pavement, one has to be prepared to do and say things correctly, otherwise the world will use it against him. ‘It’s for your safety, see, if you don’t make choices, you’ll never make the jackhammer break the castle or the paper cut you.’

“The porcelain boy listens.”

_‘No, I’ll decide what classes you’ll take, and who you decide to hang about. You’ll join the football team, cross country isn’t worth my time watching you participate.’ ‘Okay.’_

“Satisfied that the porcelain boy is seemingly no longer porcelain in their eyes, and he doesn't make his own choices to endanger himself, they allow him outside the glass walls, to explore the city of stone. It is in that city that he meets its residence.”

“The soldier, the poet and the king.”

_‘I’m Wilbur, and silent Sven over there is Techno, and the short dude is Phil.’ ‘Hey, I’m not short, your all just fucking tall!’_

“They are happy and carefree. They do not worry about glass castles, jackhammers and pens. They make choices themselves, they speak freely and move without hesitation. ‘They are foolish,’ the porcelain boy in disguise tells himself. ‘When they get hurt by the city of stone, they will see.’”

“One day, the soldier gets into a fight. The poet has been called a liar, and he is upset. The king is sad that they are upset, and so, all of them are hurt by the city of stone. It is then that the boy learns of resilience. For even though the city of stone has hurt them, they get back up, and they do not crack, they mend, healing over scratches and cuts and dents. They are fine.”

_‘I’ll be fine, really Phil. It’ll take some time, but I’ll be okay eventually. Words aren’t as powerful when you don’t let them consume you.’_

Tommy had never felt so scared in his life, and he felt eyes burning on him, felt people listening intently, trying to solve whatever the outcome of the story should be. 

“‘Why do you come back after the city has hurt you? Surely you must see the damage, for you are not blind nor deaf. The words and the stones hurt.’ They laugh at him, until they realize he is being serious, and he does not know how they go against everything he has been taught. 

_‘Tommy, if you don’t make mistakes, how will you ever learn? It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, it makes us stronger. Too much though, and it’ll break you.’_

“It is then that the boy learns different lessons, that contradict those of his parents.”

“The poet tells him to write a song of his own, one of liveness and chaos. To fill the air with his rambunctiousness that the pen stifles on paper. The soldier tells him to fight. The soldier tells him to cut through the glass castle himself, to break the jackhammer, and he gifts him his cloak to warm him in the cold glass castle. The king tells him to make his own decisions, for people only go far when they make their own choices. ‘You must dictate your own life, or you will blame your downfall on others.’” 

_'Tommy, you can’t let them control your life. You have to make your own choices. Choices define who we are. Our persistence, our drive, the will to fight back. It makes you who you are.’_

“The boy becomes porcelain once more, and adopts these words of wisdom. Despite being fine china, he runs around and fights, laughs and jokes and runs on the pavement. His parents are angry. They have done everything they can to protect and train the boy to be made of cold steel, to not do anything except stand and look nice in his glass castle.

_‘I get to make my own decisions, it's MY life!’ He screamed, rage consuming him. His parents were horrified. ‘You live under my roof, you do as I say and you don’t make choices, because they aren’t your to make.’_

“The jackhammer does not forget his warning. And so he taps the boy hard on the back, cracking it. The pen and paper write lines and words faster, instructions on how to speak and act. They decide that the soldier, the poet and the king should not be around the boy any longer. ‘You are forbidden to ever see them again.’

_‘Pain seems to be the only way you learn boy.’_

_‘Phil was right, you just manipulate me.’ ‘Phil? Are you really taking advice from him? You are forbidden from contact or seeing those fools. If I find out, there will be consequences young man.’_

“Now, they know the porcelain boy should not be left alone, for he may try to see the ones he is forbidden too. So they invite the strings into the porcelain boys castle, for he is no longer steel. They ignore the strongs as they tangle and tie themselves around his arms and legs.

_‘These are your new friends. They go to school with you. Listen to them.’_

“Sometimes they like to use the strings as puppet leads. For it is funny when the boy protests against them, unable to do anything to stop. They let him drop before yanking him back up, barely missing the pavement. No one notices small cracks forming. The strings then invite the rocks to hang out with them.

_‘I’m not going to spray paint anything dickhead.’ ‘Aww, come one, you a pussy then Tommy?’ ‘Hand me that can.’_

He glared out into the crowd, at the shifting crowd near the back. He turns to the brown eyes, who look at him in horror. He sees nothing but regret in those eyes, and the brown only sees forgiveness in his own. 

“The porcelain boy trails behind the strings and rocks. He misses walking beside the soldier, the poet and the king. He then meets the bee one day, when the rocks are throwing stones at his small frail wings.

_‘What the fuck man? What did this guy do to you, leave him alone!’_

Blue eyes meet his own, but they are different then the first ones. They are deeper in colour, younger, curious and confused.

“The bee, despite the stones that are thrown his way, is always happy. He does not live in fear of glass castles, or rocks and strings or pens and paper that paint his history and the jackhammer who cracks his back. 

_‘My name’s Tubbo, pleasure to meet you!’ ‘I don’t want to meet you, go away.’ ‘I know we're going to be great friends!’ ‘Do you know what ‘go away’ means?’ ‘Your never getting rid of me. Now, let’s go get lunch!’_

“The porcelain boy decides he likes the bee, although he would never admit it. The bee who lets him walk beside him, and does not treat him for what he is made of, rather as who he is. The bee is his secret though, and he hides him away from the strings and the rocks and his parents.

_‘Hey, how come we never go to your house? Or meet your friends?’ ‘They don’t like people like you and me Tubbo. Its best to stay away.’_

“The boy is being pulled away by the strings when they discover the bee’s existence, and tangle him up in his glass castle. They laugh, they do not care as stones hit his cracking back, taking chips and chunks from the thin china. They hold him in place as they allow the rocks to hurt him. The jackhammer and the pen and paper watch through the glass, ‘for your actions have consequences, and you must learn from them’. And so the porcelain boy does not resist any more, and continues to give them the pieces of himself he had never realized he had been giving since he was born.

_‘Tomm- oh, are these your friends? Hi, I’m Tubbo!’_

_‘Mrs Innit, have you ever met Tubbo, he’s so sweet! I heard he hangs out with techno, Wilbur and Phil sometimes!’ ‘Tommy, is this true? You're no longer allowed near this boy.’_

_‘God, can’t believe you hang out with him, you're a loser.’_

_‘Stand up for yourself boy, you can't show vulnerability!’ ‘It was a 4 v 1! There is no way I’d win that!’_

“H-he didn’t see the difference, you see? From the jackhammer and pen and paper, to the strings and rocks. They are the same, essentially. Jackhammers and rocks break things, and pen and paper along with strings puppeteer his actions and thoughts.

He swallowed the constricting feeling crawling up his throat, making him stumble slightly.

“The porcelain boy told himself, ‘yes, this is how life is supposed to be’. He ignores the poet, the soldier, the king and the bee as they tell him it's not. The porcelain boy begins to find peace in the glass castle, for the routine is predictable, the lesson is the same, and he is not confused. 

_‘I like the way I live, thank you very much.’ ‘Tommy, this isn't healthy! They’re not good for you, please, you have to see that!’_

“The boy was afraid, you see. Why leave his glass castle? He was safe, the pen and paper told him so. Yet the jackhammer never stopped its tapping, and the stone's relentless pounding never wavered, even when he no longer fought back. The strings and the paper and pen continue to decide his fate. One day, he fails the expectations much more than he should have. It is not a simple sleep up, it is a catastrophe, a whirlwind headed towards the castle because he rebelled. 

_‘Come on Tommy, it's just one night. Sneak out and come hang with us, just like old times. Sleepy Bois inc reunite, come on!’_

“He cried when the jackhammer and rocks broke the glass, and the pen and paper stopped writing and the strings cut themselves loose. His home was gone, his parents were gone, his friends. What was he to do? He sat in the rubble of the shards, cutting his porcelain skin. He falls asleep in the midst of the rubble. Having no idea what to do or say, he was too fragile and he had no one to remind himself that he was. 

_‘I tell you not to be stupid, and what do you do? You sneak out, to see those, those- those idiots!’ *slap* ‘Pain really is the only way to make you learn, isn’t it?’_

_‘Were leaving. You're too much of a burden.’_

“The king finds him, going to look for the boy he now saw as one of his own, worried. When he finds him, he wipes his tears away, and he tells him a truth he knew he needed, but was not ready for. 

_‘They’re gone Phil! They left me, and I-I don’t know what to do!’ ‘It's going to be okay Tommy, take a deep breath and breathe for me, okay?’_

“‘You cry because your glass castle is not your home, it is a prison. The jackhammer and the paper and pen? They were never your parents, they were the imprisoners. Strings and rocks never meant to be friends, for they are the guards and nothing more.’ The king sighs, holding him as he sobs in the shards that are a mix of the castles and his own skin. 

_‘Parents aren’t like them. This isn’t home, those aren't your friends, or they’d care you were hurting.’_

“‘And you, you were the key keeper.’ And the porcelain boy cries harder, because he knows the truth, as he always has, but it hurts because he ignored it for so long.

_‘You can’t blame them entirely. You made the choice to follow what they tell you to do. You need to make your own choices.’_

“The glass castle was a prison, a display case.”  
He looked at the crowd, and he saw sadness, pity and tears.

“The jackhammer and the pen and paper were the jailers, the sellers.”

Never in his life had he hated his parents more, eyes piercing through the crowd to find them, who stood in shock.

“The strings and the rocks were the taunting villagers, jeering at him as he sat behind the glass walls, the buyers and thieves.”

Distaste was evident as he looked at his ‘friends’ and the bullies who’d made his life hell for months on end.

“And the porcelain boy? He was the imprisoned, yet he held the key.”

“The bee, the soldier, the poet and the key were the saviours, the artifact collectors.”

“The porcelain boy shouldn’t be expected to free himself, not alone. He was only a child, far too frail and young to have so many expectations and cracks. The saviours take him away from the broken display case.They whisper sweet nothings of a promised life where he would write his own song, he would have his own sword cut path, the bee’s company, and make his own choices.

_‘We won’t leave you Tommy.’_

“‘You get the choice, to choose this life.’ They remind him, and he runs into open arms that accept him as porcelain, that do not force him to be steel or mindlessly follow instructions written on paper. 

_‘You can make your own decisions, and not just for others, but for yourself.’_

“There is one more lesson that the porcelain boy learns.”

The crowd hung onto his every word, and he took the microphone off the stand, walking to the end of the stage. 

“Porcelain boys shouldn’t run on pavement,not alone. They must run with others, and if they should fall, there is nothing wrong with it. They have others to lean on until they heal.”

“Thank you.”

_‘Thank you.’_

Applause erupted over the crowd, and suddenly, in a blinding blur, he was embraced by green and white, red and pink, yellow and brown, and dark green and blue. Red and white is enveloped in forgiveness, in acceptance, and toxic thoughts and words of evil wash away.

Tommy Innit is home. He does not live in a glass castle anymore, he lives in the stone city. He is made of porcelain, and he knows it's okay to get hurt, because he has people who will help him, and not punish him for falling.

_‘Sleepy Bois Inc, god, I can see the family dynamic blooming!’_

The porcelain boy smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot, but I may expand on the backstory of the speech at another time, who knows? This doesn't have anything to do with my other works, and if you've read my christmas story, the next chapter should be out within the week.


End file.
